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2653482	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 10:31 AM	1735316850	1749137505		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653581	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 10:38 AM	1735316860	1749137895		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bfmBZkC3sDYQ7kNvgEHiS6x&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC53dsnQgqBR-ntKHtC3O_nzmfUyAPM5nbycrkj3Jp8Uw&oe=6774906B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653554	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 11:06 AM	1735316857	1749139604		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653436	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 11:06 AM	1735316845	1749139608		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653536	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 11:16 AM	1735316855	1749140218		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653532	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 11:19 AM	1735316855	1749140385		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653264	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 11:34 AM	1735316824	1749141251		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16865&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471436633_1111178080715589_6348095694429870959_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=W5-L-xjBA3MQ7kNvgFBIJxz&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AB7P-oBkJGsYjvWU8uPYF4F&oh=00_AYC0MBud34KzpKrtxdSY3FBJMMYpBSANLuf0lJFpUTpvdA&oe=6774A5D3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband Killian arrived late after my grandmother's funeral because he needed to be there for his first love. He looked like he ran in his wolf form. His hair is a mess, and his tie is not even tied properly. He was breathing so fast that he couldn’t even speak. My face turned blank as I locked gazes with him. “Astrid, I couldn’t leave early because I had something I needed to take care of.” My fists balled up at my sides as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Was there anything else more important than to be on your mate’s side at the time that she needed you the most?” I shot back at him. His eyes met mine and for a fleeting moment, a shadow of remorse flickered across his gaze “If only you hadn’t stopped me that night, I would have still met my grandma while she was still alive.” Killian’s grip on the bouquet tightened when he heard my words. “I had no idea I—“ “I kept telling you that my grandmother needed me!” I yelled, interrupting him from his words. “All you cared about is Giselle who is pre9nant with your child.” I blurted out finally releasing all the emotions that I have buried down long enough. Killian could not say a word. My heart which has always been heavy, felt lighter than it was after I finally told him the things that I’ve been wanting to tell him. I glanced at him in surprise when he suddenly crouched down and placed the bouquet of flowers that he brought on the ground where my grandmother had just been buried. “I only came here to pay my respects to your grandmother. I’m sorry if I was late, that was out of my control,” Killian replied like he didn’t just hear the rest of the words that I said. My breath turned shallow and my heart burned more in anger at his heartlessness. Unable to control myself anymore, I picked up the flowers and thrashed them on Killian until the flowers were all shredded into pieces. “You are here to pay respect?!” I screamed at him. I threw what was left of the flowers to the ground. “I’m tired of this. If you can’t give me respect, I should at least give myself some respect,” I spoke in a weak voice as I collected myself together. “Let’s just stop this joke and get a divorce,” I spoke firmly, looking at Killian directly in his eyes.		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653494	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 3:18 PM	1735316851	1749154726		2141																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=v7KZcu1KOOwQ7kNvgEzKPp8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBFltcnwJPJGTyxx-FIQPbYeaMG7rpuLg05XLuFWf4JaQ&oe=6774BDF2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653590	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 6:34 PM	1735316862	1749166480		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653489	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 6:59 PM	1735316851	1749686369		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653313	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 8:12 PM	1735316832	1749172333		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653327	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 7:10 PM	1735316833	1749168603		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653338	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 7:13 PM	1735316833	1749168798		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653311	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 7:17 PM	1735316831	1749169077		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653392	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 7:18 PM	1735316840	1749169122		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653515	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 9:45 PM	1735316854	1749177926		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7pHgEWCb0_sQ7kNvgG_vGHW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC3mDOikVmVx9ltVUgaBwDWGLkdsZgpw6Tz6CwBmvcUeQ&oe=6774BAD2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653331	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 10:18 PM	1735316833	1749179891		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653617	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 10:46 PM	1735316866	1749181579		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lSWN8bIs1PwQ7kNvgEI0lan&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCvSeh9XF59NPtoo2t9RTsIsyuARVXi77TUwcoWPzQT-g&oe=67749A6C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653437	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 10:50 PM	1735316845	1749181848		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653465	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 7:50 PM	1735316849	1749862232		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653474	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 11:23 PM	1735316850	1749702182		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653455	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 9:30 PM	1735316848	1749177043		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYA6buUeOfHPCQ6W2HfritNX6Ax7gIFdVt28ZpA0pYGTmw&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653576	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/3/25, 5:31 PM	1735316860	1746311504		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bfmBZkC3sDYQ7kNvgEHiS6x&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC53dsnQgqBR-ntKHtC3O_nzmfUyAPM5nbycrkj3Jp8Uw&oe=6774906B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653578	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/14/25, 1:19 AM	1735316860	1749881949		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bfmBZkC3sDYQ7kNvgEHiS6x&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC53dsnQgqBR-ntKHtC3O_nzmfUyAPM5nbycrkj3Jp8Uw&oe=6774906B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653481	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/3/25, 5:51 PM	1735316850	1746312711		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653603	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/3/25, 6:12 PM	1735316865	1746313934		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653342	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 11:29 PM	1735316834	1749184159		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653612	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 11:45 PM	1735316865	1749185120		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653388	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 11:48 PM	1735316840	1749185287		2141																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470195820_648791847503747_4400630868748044853_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=uVaabe9qnAwQ7kNvgFHhsUe&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYARWIxWniU_YvAXN_GQ_Oc6lyUO_0zc_t6ZuaZispuzaA&oe=6774C1D1	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		その日、優子が末期がんと診断された。 その頃、夫は彼の初恋相手と一緒に「忙しかった」。 …… 「手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子の青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらいだ。すぐに入院手続きをするよ。」 「そんな必要ないわ。治療を受けるつもりはない。」 実家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 夫である峻介は何の手伝いもくれなかった。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、彼は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては峻介も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 その後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。 でも優子は――母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、もう拒否することはできなかった。 彼女は震える手で電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。 「離婚以外の話なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえながら、がんの話を切り出すことができなかった。 すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。 「峻介君、今は私たちの時間よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。優子の家族を壊した彼が、今では里美と新しい家庭を築こうとしている。 すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子は震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。 「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 そう言うと、全力で電話を切った彼女は壁にもたれかかるように座り込み、袖を噛んで声を上げずに泣いた。 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間、どんなに離婚を迫っても拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今日に限って急に同意したのだろう？ それに、彼女の声には涙の気配があった。 窓の外、大雨が叩きつけるのを見ながら、峻介は彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去り、説明する気配もなかった。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。彼の整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 かつて輝いていた優子の瞳は、その時は虚ろだった。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「お前にはまだ離婚届にサインしてくれる必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。カバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。 優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」 嘲笑を浮かべた彼の顔が、優子の視界を覆った。 かつての優子なら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今の優子はただ静かに言った。 「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。 「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。 「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。 「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。 「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子がすでに身支度を整えて出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。 「お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ！？すぐ向かいます！」 到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。手術室の前で両手を組み、祈るように待ち続ける。 彼女の唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。明細を見ると、総額は300万円以上。 以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、彼女は峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「突然離婚に応じるなんて妙だと思ったが、どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 優子は必死に説明した。「嘘なんかじゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「で、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方をする人がいるのか！？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後に。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。 かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだろう？ 優子は考え込む余裕もなく、今は父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「心配しないで、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 「ありがとうございます！」優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろし、介護人に父を任せた。 お金のために市役所に急いだが、峻介の姿はどこにもなかった。 焦る気持ちで電話をかけた。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「峻介、今すぐ離婚手続きに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待っているから……お願い、父のためにお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 雨は容赦なく降り注ぎ、バス停の標識の下でしゃがみ込む優子は、息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 家族の突然の破産が、いつも彼女を深く愛してくれた峻介を変えてしまうなんて… 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「いらっしゃいませ。この指輪ですね。お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「あります。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要がありますので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は乾いた唇を舐め、切迫した声で言った。 「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人――里美だった。		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		127	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653399	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 3:56 AM	1735316840	1749200195		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=aBMylyCgSRQQ7kNvgHK8gwq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBWCydhMgyb_tE6P_Q7Mja0Hn4uP-j7hb8p8M8OWMzn6g&oe=6774A9BD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653563	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 4:15 AM	1735316859	1749201319		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bXiMAeg8mKAQ7kNvgHoVV9G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAn6Vh_sL9aPPovO0-gjEXK5ZU_8LJ5mw__VkG-YnGteA&oe=6774BE08	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653394	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 4:49 AM	1735316840	1749203354		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653646	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 2:57 AM	1735316869	1749196679		2141																										maersk.com	Learn More			DCO	Easy peak season booking	Booking Maersk Spot online is easy and can be done at anytime from anywhere. See our guide for detailed steps on how to book using PC and mobile.	https://www.maersk.com/support/faqs/book-maersk-spot?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=paid_social_conversion&utm_campaign=NAM_MCO_TRA_EN_OS_TBM_INTEGRATED_Q4_2024_448982&utm_term=&utm_content=nam-integreated-spot-meta-usa			1.906389676457E+14	Maersk	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470647843_944522454406853_3216293876702318043_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=P2XwtoQVR-YQ7kNvgF-UcE_&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBAChF3QMDm4E-3VuL1JHSu7iY6jNxdbTtm6Sz5RbPMzg&oe=6774AE75	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Our how-to videos guide you through every step, from securing your space to selecting value-added services.		Maersk		3061672	https://www.facebook.com/Maersk/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653555	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 7:22 AM	1735316857	1749212562		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653297	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 5:12 AM	1735316828	1749204744		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LAQnGx2cmcoQ7kNvgEZ9SO4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYAq_3s7qhV-wr0CYNsdD1UtkEy2mIHUInQkHAs_Rx9h0g&oe=6774BE2C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653395	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 8:03 AM	1735316840	1749214984		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653343	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/19/25, 5:50 PM	1735316834	1750373444		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653375	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 9:13 AM	1735316839	1749219219		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653336	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 8:38 AM	1735316833	1749217126		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653587	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 10:31 AM	1735316861	1749223875		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653374	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 11:00 AM	1735316839	1749225618		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653304	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 11:20 AM	1735316828	1749226847		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653408	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 12:02 PM	1735316842	1749229351		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653538	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/26/25, 10:29 AM	1735316855	1748273375		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653423	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 3:48 PM	1735316844	1749242907		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653517	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 2:39 PM	1735316854	1749238782		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7pHgEWCb0_sQ7kNvgG_vGHW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC3mDOikVmVx9ltVUgaBwDWGLkdsZgpw6Tz6CwBmvcUeQ&oe=6774BAD2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653552	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 5:35 PM	1735316857	1749249340		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653456	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 6:53 AM	1735316849	1749470015		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYA6buUeOfHPCQ6W2HfritNX6Ax7gIFdVt28ZpA0pYGTmw&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653525	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 6:54 PM	1735316855	1749254070		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653369	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 7:09 PM	1735316838	1749254988		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653566	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 6:28 PM	1735316859	1749252528		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bXiMAeg8mKAQ7kNvgHoVV9G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAn6Vh_sL9aPPovO0-gjEXK5ZU_8LJ5mw__VkG-YnGteA&oe=6774BE08	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653601	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 7:55 PM	1735316864	1749257734		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653562	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 8:15 PM	1735316858	1749258912		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bXiMAeg8mKAQ7kNvgHoVV9G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAn6Vh_sL9aPPovO0-gjEXK5ZU_8LJ5mw__VkG-YnGteA&oe=6774BE08	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653624	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/14/25, 12:26 AM	1735316867	1749878770		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653600	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 11:00 PM	1735316864	1749268806		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653605	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 5:25 AM	1735316865	1749032747		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653314	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/7/25, 1:27 AM	1735316832	1749277628		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653412	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/7/25, 3:54 AM	1735316842	1749286492		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653609	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	7/5/25, 5:02 AM	1735316865	1751709743		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653551	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 5:39 AM	1735316857	1749033592		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653561	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 5:40 AM	1735316858	1749033634		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653596	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/7/25, 11:35 AM	1735316864	1749314116		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653470	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:23 AM	1735316850	1745742180		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653472	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:23 AM	1735316850	1745742180		2141																										fbweb.kifflire.com	Learn more			IMAGE	Les secrets de l'épouse négligée		https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20896410-fb_contact-frp83_2-241129-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=930975401843871&rawadid=120213957313480403			1.0374783554967E+14	Mobo-Reader：Funny Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469945624_594337349656837_139589883440667506_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=84CmcsVmMR8Q7kNvgEIyyf5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYACp0WAmA6eD85YS8-QCSpCptKoMPeUrxkq52tMe-Gwsg&oe=6774A278	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Pendant trois ans, elle a caché son identité et est devenue femme au foyer, mais son mari lui a brisé le cœur, même lui a donné un papier de divorce. Elle est déçue et se détourne pour redevenir elle-même. ===== « Divorçons. » Colton Stevens s'est approché avec impatience, sa frustration étant presque perceptible. « Quatre millions devraient te permettre de vivre toute ta vie. » « C'est notre troisième anniversaire de mariage aujourd'hui, ne pouvons-nous pas au moins terminer ce repas ensemble ? » Le visage d'Allison Clarke s'est figé un instant. Ses ongles se sont douloureusement enfoncés dans sa paume alors qu'elle luttait pour garder son sang-froid. Colton s'est moqué, son regard était froid et distant. « Même après ce repas, je ne t'aimerai jamais. De plus, Melany est revenue. Elle est orgueilleuse, et elle ne supportera pas toute cette situation. » Une lueur de douceur lui a parcouru le visage à la mention de Melany Johnson, une chaleur qui n'avait jamais été réservée à Allison, malgré tous les efforts qu'elle avait déployés pour y parvenir. Soumise à des exigences extrêmes pour lui, elle s'était occupée de ses parents et avait tout sacrifié pendant des années. Mais rien de tout cela ne lui avait valu plus qu'un simple regard. Melany était celle qui tenait son cœur, elle l'avait toujours tenu. Elle l'avait quitté trois ans plus tôt, rompant leurs fiançailles et partant à l'étranger. Pourtant, aujourd'hui, sur un simple mot de sa part, Colton a facilement accepté son retour et a choisi de divorcer d'Allison sans la moindre hésitation. Allison s'est agrippée au bord de la table comme si elle essayait de se stabiliser contre une soudaine rafale de vent. « Ton grand-père est au courant ? » Colton a éclaté d'un rire aigu et moqueur. « Ne crois pas que tu puisses te cacher derrière mon grand-père. Il est à l'hôpital et ne peut pas supporter le stress. Mes parents sont d'accord avec le divorce. En fait, Melany les a rencontrés aujourd'hui même. » Le cœur d'Allison s'est effondré, un froid glacial s'est insinué dans ses veines. Elle était autrefois une parfumeuse de génie, une pirate informatique de renom. Pendant trois ans, elle avait enterré toute trace de son génie, se transformant en parfaite femme au foyer. Récemment, elle avait obtenu une opportunité rare avec Cobweb, le réseau de renseignement le plus insaisissable, dans l'espoir d'aider la famille Stevens à conclure une affaire cruciale. Une telle opportunité était presque impossible à obtenir. Pourtant, maintenant, tout cela ressemblait à une farce cruelle. « Alors, Melany est chez tes parents ? », a-t-elle demandé, la voix cassante. « Naturellement », a dit Colton en souriant, ses traits s'adoucissant comme si la pensée de Melany rendait tout plus lumineux. « Ils viennent même de dîner. Melany s'est toujours bien entendue avec mes parents. Ils ont vanté ses mérites toute la soirée, disant à quel point elle est attentionnée et compréhensive. » « Et vous saviez tous qu'elle allait revenir, mais vous m'avez laissée dans l'ignorance », a murmuré Allison, la voix chargée d'incrédulité. Ses yeux se sont illuminés, la piqûre de la trahison l'a profondément marquée. Attentionnée et compréhensive. Comme c'était ridicule. Les parents de Colton avaient l'habitude de faire les mêmes commentaires à son sujet. Colton lui a lancé un regard impatient. « Ce n'était pas fait exprès. C'est juste que le majordome a oublié de le mentionner. Ne commence pas à créer des drames là où il n'y en a pas. » Il l'a regardée alors, vraiment regardée, et pendant un moment, son expression est passée à celle du dédain. Allison était une femme délicate, à la peau impeccable et aux traits remarquables, d'autant plus que ses yeux étaient clairs et brillants. Mais rien de tout cela n'avait d'importance. Elle était ennuyeuse, et c'était tout. Elle était une femme au foyer idéale, certes, répondant à tout ce qu'il aurait pu attendre d'une gardienne pour ses parents, mais vivre avec elle était étouffant. Chaque jour, Allison repassait les vêtements et préparait les repas avec précision. Sa routine était si prévisible que Colton n'avait jamais à se demander ce qu'elle faisait. Elle était l'image même de la femme au foyer parfaite : entièrement dévouée à la maison. Mais il n'en pouvait plus. « Et que tu acceptes le fait ou pas, tu pars ce soir. » Colton a hésité, réalisant à quel point il avait l'air dur. « Tu peux déménager à la Villa Starfish. Je te laisse la villa, elle est à toi. » En effet, il avait fait des recherches sur Allison. Elle venait d'un milieu rural modeste, avait quitté l'école très tôt et n'avait pas vu grand-chose du monde. Si elle n'avait pas sauvé la vie du grand-père de Colton, elle n'aurait jamais épousé un membre de la famille Stevens. Dans son esprit, lui offrir la villa semblait plus que généreux pour quelqu'un aux origines aussi modestes. Mais le visage d'Allison n'a pas manifesté de gratitude. Au lieu de cela, elle lui a offert un mince sourire froid. « Alors, est-ce qu'elle emménage maintenant ? » Allison se moquait de la villa et des quatre millions qu'il proposait. Elle pouvait gagner bien plus en tant que hacker dehaut niveau. Ce qui lui faisait mal, c'était d'être abandonnée après trois ans de loyauté. Colton a soupiré et a dit : « La chambre au deuxième étage était toujours la sienne. Maintenant que Melany est de retour et qu'elle n'a pas d'autre endroit où loger, je lui ai dit qu'elle pouvait s'y installer. Si tu es encore là, elle se sentira mal à l'aise. » Le silence d'Allison suffisait à l'agacer, car il supposait qu'elle n'était pas satisfaite de l'accord. Il devenait de plus en plus frustré. « N'insiste pas. Tu dois savoir quand c'est assez. » Il a jeté un coup d'œil à sa montre, comptant manifestement le temps. « Maintenant que j'ai déposé ma demande de divorce, nous nous retrouverons à la mairie dans quelques jours. Tu ferais mieux de te préparer et d'engager un avocat... » Il n'a pas pu terminer. « Je sais ce qu'il faut faire », l'a interrompu Allison, la voix teintée de dégoût. Elle s'est replongée dans un souvenir d'enfance où elle était aveugle et en grand danger. Un garçon l'avait portée sur son dos pendant trois jours et trois nuits, lui sauvant la vie. Ce garçon avait dit qu'il s'appelait Colton Stevens. À présent, trois ans après leur mariage, ce même garçon l'obligeait à partir. Le temps transformait parfois les gens en étrangers. « Je vais y aller », a dit Allison en revenant à l'instant présent. Elle s'est levée et a regardé Colton avec fermeté et détachement. « À partir de maintenant, nous ne nous devons plus rien l'un à l'autre. » Colton a respiré, soulagé. « C'est bien. » Comme à l'improviste, la gouvernante, Kaelyn Thorpe, est apparue en haut des escaliers, se débattant avec une valise. « Monsieur, vos parents ont appelé et ont dit que Mme Clarke devait partir tout de suite, alors j'ai emballé ses affaires.... Oh non ! » Avant qu'elle ne puisse terminer, elle a poussé un cri dramatique et a fait semblant de se tordre la cheville. La valise d'Allison a dégringolé les escaliers, renversant ses affaires partout. Chapitre 2 Retour « Mme Clarke, je suis vraiment désolée ! Je n'ai pas fait exprès ! » Kaelyn a descendu précipitamment les escaliers, son visage affichant une inquiétude exagérée. « Peut-être pourriez-vous tout mettre dans un sac pour l'instant ? », a-t-elle ajouté, cachant son dédain derrière un sourire mielleux. Kaelyn méprisait toujours Allison, ne la considérant que comme une pauvre fille de la campagne qui s'accrochait sans vergogne à Colton pour avoir une vie meilleure. Colton a froncé les sourcils de frustration. « Tu es tellement maladroite ! », s'est-il exclamé en jetant un coup d'œil aux vêtements éparpillés. La valise d'Allison contenait si peu de choses, quelques vêtements et presque aucun bijou. Elle n'avait même pas dépensé une grande partie de l'argent qu'il lui avait donné au fil des ans. Elle vivait simplement, frugalement, et cela reflétait le fait qu'elle n'avait jamais essayé de profiter de son statut. Mais l'amour ne pouvait pas être forcé ou simulé. « Les bagages de Melany sont prioritaires. Mets les affaires d'Allison dans un sac de rangement », a ajouté Colton d'un air dédaigneux, en regardant la valise cassée. « Je demanderai à la gouvernante de t'en acheter une nouvelle demain. » Allison a esquissé un léger sourire amer. « Cette valise, c'est celle que j'ai volée aux kidnappeurs quand nous nous enfuyions pour sauver nos vies. Sans elle, nous nous serions noyés à l'époque. » Pendant ces années, elle avait pris soin de cette valise, tout comme elle avait pris soin de leur mariage. Et à présent, tout comme leur relation, elle était brisée. Colton a laissé échapper un rire glacial. « Cette histoire pourrait tromper mon grand-père, mais elle ne marche pas sur moi. » Le souvenir d'avoir été kidnappé quand il était enfant était trop vague, et il doutait toujours qu'Allison ait été avec lui à cette époque. Se tournant vers Kaelyn, Colton a élevé le ton. « Dépêche-toi de faire ses valises ! » « À vos ordres ! », a commencé Kaelyn avec empressement à rassembler les vêtements d'Allison, mais elle a délibérément marché dessus, les salissant par la même occasion. D'un ton maladivement doux, elle s'est moquée : « Mme Clarke, la grand-mère de M. Stevens dit toujours que les gens sont comme des vêtements. Une fois que les vêtements d'une personne sont tachés, on a beau les laver, les marques ne s'effacent jamais vraiment. » Allison faisait toujours preuve de gentillesse à l'égard de Kaelyn, même lorsqu'elle n'était pas obligée de le faire. Après tout, Kaelyn était une parente éloignée de la grand-mère de Colton. Quelques années plus tôt, lorsque Kaelyn avait commis une erreur qui avait failli mettre la famille Stevens en conflit avec Kellan Lloyd, le fils aîné de la famille Lloyd, c'était Allison qui avait aplani les choses. Elle avait négocié un accord avec Kellan, qui était paralysé, afin d'obtenir le terrain nécessaire au projet commercial des Stevens. À l'époque, Kaelyn avait été reconnaissante, presque humiliée. Mais aujourd'hui, enhardie par le vent de changement qui soufflait sur la famille Stevens, Kaelyn agissait comme si elle ne s'était jamais mise à genoux. Tout se résumait à une chose : la faveur de la grand-mère de Colton s'était éloignée, et avec elle, l'attitude de la famille. « Si les vêtements se salissent, tu as raison, il est impossible de les nettoyer complètement », a dit Allison en jetant un coup d'œil à Colton. Elle a haussé les épaules, avec une certaine désinvolture dans la voix. « Donc, je n'en aurai plus besoin. » De toute façon, elle n'avait jamais aimé ses vêtements fades et informes. Ils ne lui avaient jamais convenu. Après avoir dit cela, Alison se retourna et s'éloigna. Sortie de la villa, Allison son téléphone à la main, et avait composé un numéro familier. Lorsque l'appel a été connecté, sa voix était calme, presque légère. « Rebecca, je suis divorcée et j'ai quitté sa villa. Ma maison et ma voiture sont toujours au Vrining. Ça te dérange si je passe la nuit chez toi ? » À l'autre bout du fil, Rebecca Green a passé du silence aux cris de joie en quelques secondes. « Nom d'un chien ! Tu as enfin divorcé de cet i**ot ! Oublie l'hébergement, passons à une fête ! Une fête de célibataires ! » Même à distance, Allison pouvait entendre les rires exagérés de Rebecca dans le téléphone. « Si les gens de Cobweb apprennent que la fondatrice est de retour, les serveurs vont exploser ! » Chapitre 3 Fête de la croisière Dans la villa, Colton son regard tombant sur la table à manger chargée de nourriture. La frustration l'a envahi, d'autant plus qu'il a repensé au souvenir d'Allison je viens de partir plus tôt. Allison était restée calme, mais quelque chose en elle semblait plus froid, plus dur qu'avant, loin de la femme docile et conciliante qu'il avait connue. Mais cette pensée s'est rapidement dissipée. Pour lui, Allison serait toujours cette femme au foyer terne et soumise. Il pensait que sans lui, elle ne serait rien. À l'extérieur de la villa, une Lamborghini élégante s'est arrêtée et une femme en est descendue. « Allison, ma chérie ! » Rebecca s'est précipitée sur Allison et l'a embrassée chaleureusement. « Tu sais, si tu le souhaites, tu pourrais vivre chez moi pour toujours ! » Rebecca, fille unique des propriétaires du Groupe Éternité, possédait pratiquement la moitié de l'horizon de la ville. Trouver un toit pour Allison n'était pas un problème. « Alors, que s'est-il passé ce soir ? », a demandé Rebecca en se rapprochant, sa joue reposant sur le cou d'Allison. « Tu sens encore l'huile de cuisson. Ne me dis pas que tu as encore cuisiné pour ce c**tin ? » Allison a senti le serrement familier dans sa gorge, les émotions montant alors que l'étreinte de Rebecca la réchauffait. « Parlons dans la voiture », a-t-elle dit. Une fois dans la Lamborghini, Allison a commencé à raconter ce qui s'était passé aujourd'hui. Sa voix est restée stable, mais le tempérament de Rebecca s'est enflammé comme une étincelle enflammant du bois sec. « Peux-tu le croire ? Colton s'est fait larguer par Melany le jour de leur mariage, et maintenant il essaie de revenir vers elle en divorçant ? Ils sont faits l'un pour l'autre, deux pois dans une cosse pourrie ! », s'est emportée Rebecca. « Et ses parents ! » Rebecca a continué, sa colère montant comme une tempête. « Tu t'es occupée d'eux pendant trois ans, tu t'es pliée en quatre pour cette famille, et c'est le remerciement que tu reçois ? » Rebecca a continué sa tirade, ses mots comme des balles. « Écoute, il a perdu la mémoire de cet incident dans son enfance, c'est sûr, mais ça n'excuse pas ce qu'il a fait. Tu as plus que payé ton dû ces trois dernières années. Ce n'est plus la peine de faire semblant d'être la femme qu'il veut. Il est temps de laisser le passé derrière toi. » Allison s'est affaissée sur le siège du passager, son regard distant alors que le monde se brouillait devant la fenêtre. « C'est fini. Nous sommes quittes maintenant. » Pendant trois ans, elle s'était modelée à l'image de la femme parfaite de Colton. Elle avait abandonné ses talons, ramené ses cheveux en arrière et s'était contentée de tenues modestes et ennuyeuses, des tenues qu'elle n'aimait même pas, tout cela pour être à l'image de Melany. Mais elle avait beau essayer, elle ne pouvait pas rivaliser avec la femme qu'il aimait vraiment. « Allison, la vérité est que la famille Stevens ne mérite pas quelqu'un comme toi. » La voix de Rebecca s'est adoucie, chargée du poids des émotions alors qu'elle sentait l'épuisement d'Allison. « Le divorce est un processus, mais jusqu'à ce qu'il soit réglé, tu resteras chez moi. Tu es comme une sœur pour moi, de toute façon. » Allison a réussi à esquisser un petit sourire. « D'accord. » Ayant grandi dans un orphelinat, Allison n'avait jamais eu de famille. Mais Rebecca la traitait toujours mieux que quiconque. Leur conversation s'est interrompue lorsqu'elles sont arrivées à un studio de maquillage exclusif. Rebecca a baissé la vitre et a salué avec enthousiasme Mary Brown, une célèbre maquilleuse. « Hé, Mary ! J'ai un petit projet pour toi ! » Allison s'est frotté les tempes en gé**ssant doucement : « Honnêtement, je suis épuisée. Je ne pense pas pouvoir me maquiller ce soir. » « Oh, voyons ! Tu n'as pas l'intention de garder ce look fatigué, toujours en train de l'attendre, n'est-ce pas ? » « Oui... Certainement pas. » « Exactement ! » Le visage de Rebecca s'est illuminé. « Détends-toi et laisse les pros faire leur magie. Ce sont des artistes internationaux de première classe. Ce soir, ils font ressortir la version de toi qui manque au monde entier ! » Trente minutes plus tard, la transformation était incontestable. Presque tous ceux qui l'ont vue dans le miroir ont été momentanément stupéfaits. Les traits naturellement frappants d'Allison avaient toujours été éclipsés par l'épuisement. Mais aujourd'hui, avec une simple touche de maquillage, elle est devenue époustouflante. Ses longs yeux félins, accentués par la juste dose d'ombre, étaient captivants sans être exagérés. Un délicat grain de beauté dessiné au coin de l'œil ajoutait une touche d'audace presque rebelle. Même Rebecca ne pouvait contenir son exaltation. « Voilà... c'est l'Allison dont je me souviens ! » Elle a fait un geste en direction d'une étagère de robes qui était en train d'être apportée. « Chérie, choisis n'importe quelle robe qui te plaît. J'ai tout prévu pour ce soir. Nous célébrons ta liberté sur un yacht de luxe. Je te jure que ce sera une soirée que tu n'oublieras pas ! » Allison l'a balayé d'un revers de main. « Je ne suis pas d'humeur. » Rebecca lui a lancé un regard complice, avec un peu de frustration. « Tu n'es pas d'humeur ? » Rebecca l'a observée attentivement, sentant qu'elle pouvait encore se raccrocher au passé. Il était temps de sortir l'artillerie lourde ! « Tu sais qu'il y aura des parfumeurs internationaux à cette soirée, n'est-ce pas ? Y compris le cerveau du Groupe Charisma ! Ne me dis pas que tu ne veux pas le rencontrer enfin. » Charisma était la marque de parfum la plus réputée du pays. Allison avait croisé le PDG lors d'un concours international de parfumerie. Ses créations n'étaient rien de moins que de l'art. Pour la première fois depuis longtemps, elles lui donnaient une impression de déjà-vu, car elles lui rappelaient le style de sa mère. Mais comme elle, le PDG était une énigme. Il ne s'était jamais montré en public, même lorsque Charisma était devenu célèbre à l'échelle mondiale. Personne ne savait à quoi il ressemblait, pas même aujourd'hui. « D'accord, allons voir. » Allison a fini par céder, sa curiosité piquée. Après tout, elle avait déjà piraté la base de données de Charisma et n'avait rien trouvé. Et quelque chose dans ses tripes lui soufflait encore que ce mystérieux parfumeur pouvait être lié à sa mère, d'une manière ou d'une autre. ...... Que se passe-t-il ensuite? Le nombre de chapitres affichés est limité. Appuyez sur le bouton ci-dessous pour installer notre application et lire les chapitres suivants. (Accéder automatiquement à ce livre en ouvrant l'application) &3&		Mobo-Reader：Funny Reading		39250	https://www.facebook.com/100077707484555/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653497	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 8:18 PM	1735316851	1749259099		2141																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=v7KZcu1KOOwQ7kNvgEzKPp8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBFltcnwJPJGTyxx-FIQPbYeaMG7rpuLg05XLuFWf4JaQ&oe=6774BDF2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653317	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 5:44 AM	1735316832	1749120287		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653355	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/7/25, 8:02 AM	1735316835	1749301344		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653364	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/7/25, 6:47 PM	1735316838	1749340044		2141																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470601356_1795282461240194_6897240102369891781_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Tz8U3C602WwQ7kNvgG-V5Oi&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYB7sciS2wFyJl2jf4pzeS3wJhZJba8miOFNlVP5HvkINQ&oe=677497EF	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		127	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653371	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 3:20 AM	1735316838	1749198051		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653378	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/2/25, 9:26 AM	1735316839	1746195995		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653380	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 4:10 AM	1735316839	1749201023		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653381	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/1/25, 9:07 AM	1735316839	1746108461		2141																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471333202_948719976684588_8228971254787601905_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wn9b_ScHn2EQ7kNvgFyuz0L&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDOnpUqstgrwpEcrTopz7Xd6XBhJPfiyaF5kB33x8unhg&oe=6774BAC9	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		127	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653504	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:23 AM	1735316852	1745742190		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends...	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469163308_1781805412650370_7853331763014231431_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yRikEUDNO_4Q7kNvgEZ3k6i&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYA3986GZJ7-DQiwNIDo23q-Ab4qUHm5Xct5rhs3QvxWtA&oe=677496FC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...		New world publications		3779	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653540	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:23 AM	1735316856	1745742190		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653546	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 9:58 PM	1735316857	1749524308		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653558	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 1:55 AM	1735316857	1749711321		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653580	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 9:39 PM	1735316860	1749868778		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bfmBZkC3sDYQ7kNvgEHiS6x&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC53dsnQgqBR-ntKHtC3O_nzmfUyAPM5nbycrkj3Jp8Uw&oe=6774906B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653606	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 3:00 AM	1735316865	1749196839		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653608	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 1:20 PM	1735316865	1745778009		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653620	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/15/25, 7:43 PM	1735316867	1747356186		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lSWN8bIs1PwQ7kNvgEI0lan&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCvSeh9XF59NPtoo2t9RTsIsyuARVXi77TUwcoWPzQT-g&oe=67749A6C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653480	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/15/25, 8:57 PM	1735316850	1747360650		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653535	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 5:45 AM	1735316855	1749033954		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653593	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 5:47 AM	1735316864	1749034037		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653458	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/7/25, 1:14 PM	1735316849	1749320095		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYA6buUeOfHPCQ6W2HfritNX6Ax7gIFdVt28ZpA0pYGTmw&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653401	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 4:14 PM	1735316840	1749676495		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=aBMylyCgSRQQ7kNvgHK8gwq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBWCydhMgyb_tE6P_Q7Mja0Hn4uP-j7hb8p8M8OWMzn6g&oe=6774A9BD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653296	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/7/25, 5:26 PM	1735316828	1749335180		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LAQnGx2cmcoQ7kNvgEZ9SO4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYAq_3s7qhV-wr0CYNsdD1UtkEy2mIHUInQkHAs_Rx9h0g&oe=6774BE2C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653487	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/30/25, 12:57 PM	1735316851	1748627876		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653393	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 5:55 AM	1735316840	1749034520		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653315	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/7/25, 9:04 PM	1735316832	1749348283		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653516	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 6:11 AM	1735316854	1749035464		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7pHgEWCb0_sQ7kNvgG_vGHW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC3mDOikVmVx9ltVUgaBwDWGLkdsZgpw6Tz6CwBmvcUeQ&oe=6774BAD2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653531	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 5:30 AM	1735316855	1749033004		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653530	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/7/25, 11:20 PM	1735316855	1749356439		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653404	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 6:00 PM	1735316841	1748991624		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653588	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 6:06 AM	1735316861	1749035197		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653615	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 6:09 AM	1735316865	1749035353		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lSWN8bIs1PwQ7kNvgEI0lan&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCvSeh9XF59NPtoo2t9RTsIsyuARVXi77TUwcoWPzQT-g&oe=67749A6C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653545	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 6:14 AM	1735316857	1749035660		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653457	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 5:46 AM	1735316849	1749379613		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYA6buUeOfHPCQ6W2HfritNX6Ax7gIFdVt28ZpA0pYGTmw&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653543	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	7/3/25, 7:43 AM	1735316857	1751546591		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653506	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 10:28 PM	1735316852	1749007723		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends...	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468932756_3806434539670266_6099922544250812942_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kFZDRd_6DBQQ7kNvgE9cJui&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYCKjmRFeCDURiyEXRkP9gVEwyLxJFgUFCIxY-Y5zmk76Q&oe=6774AC07	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...		New world publications		3779	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653626	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 8:09 AM	1735316868	1749388141		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653289	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 8:10 AM	1735316827	1749388229		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LAQnGx2cmcoQ7kNvgEZ9SO4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYAq_3s7qhV-wr0CYNsdD1UtkEy2mIHUInQkHAs_Rx9h0g&oe=6774BE2C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653637	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 8:20 AM	1735316869	1749388850		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653503	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 6:58 AM	1735316852	1749038309		2141																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=v7KZcu1KOOwQ7kNvgEzKPp8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBFltcnwJPJGTyxx-FIQPbYeaMG7rpuLg05XLuFWf4JaQ&oe=6774BDF2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653348	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 8:33 AM	1735316834	1749389597		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653373	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 8:36 AM	1735316839	1749389796		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653636	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 8:41 AM	1735316869	1749390067		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653418	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 10:55 AM	1735316842	1749398107		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653422	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 10:55 AM	1735316843	1749398110		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2653572	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 3:13 PM	1735316859	1749413589		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bfmBZkC3sDYQ7kNvgEHiS6x&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC53dsnQgqBR-ntKHtC3O_nzmfUyAPM5nbycrkj3Jp8Uw&oe=6774906B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653329	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 6:13 AM	1735316833	1749122027		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653616	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 4:30 AM	1735316866	1749202247		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lSWN8bIs1PwQ7kNvgEI0lan&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCvSeh9XF59NPtoo2t9RTsIsyuARVXi77TUwcoWPzQT-g&oe=67749A6C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653629	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 4:00 AM	1735316868	1749459644		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653295	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 9:25 PM	1735316828	1749176703		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LAQnGx2cmcoQ7kNvgEZ9SO4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYAq_3s7qhV-wr0CYNsdD1UtkEy2mIHUInQkHAs_Rx9h0g&oe=6774BE2C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653302	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/14/25, 1:19 PM	1735316828	1749925198		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653309	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 4:04 PM	1735316831	1749243886		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653376	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:23 AM	1735316839	1745742191		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653321	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:23 AM	1735316833	1745742191		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653451	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 3:05 PM	1735316846	1748981105		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653448	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:23 AM	1735316846	1745742191		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653445	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 2:46 PM	1735316846	1748979961		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653453	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:22 AM	1735316846	1745742178		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653444	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 3:06 PM	1735316846	1748981162		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653452	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 5:49 PM	1735316846	1749077357		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653476	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/30/25, 12:58 PM	1735316850	1748627888		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653449	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 2:54 PM	1735316846	1748980471		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2653498	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 11:12 AM	1735316851	1749139927		2141																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=v7KZcu1KOOwQ7kNvgEzKPp8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBFltcnwJPJGTyxx-FIQPbYeaMG7rpuLg05XLuFWf4JaQ&oe=6774BDF2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653510	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:22 AM	1735316852	1745742178		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466006044_1247243396516530_1252041975292502345_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=i0verWGrQtcQ7kNvgGuFXUh&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYDEkPVeUbXvithAbw1VhDcD0sN0kSrsAHdcX2qsJ6JnCg&oe=6774B26A	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... “Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...		New world publications		3779	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653324	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:22 AM	1735316833	1745742179		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653454	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:22 AM	1735316847	1745742179		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYA6buUeOfHPCQ6W2HfritNX6Ax7gIFdVt28ZpA0pYGTmw&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653346	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:22 AM	1735316834	1745742179		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653450	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:22 AM	1735316846	1745742179		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653279	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 2:54 PM	1735316825	1748980479		2141																										norvure.com	Shop now			IMAGE	SolarGuard™ 4 in 1 Bug Zapper - 40% Off Until Midnight	40% Off Until Midnight	https://norvure.com/products/solarguard%E2%84%A2-bug-zapper-your-ultimate-shield-against-bugs			1.0499263250923E+14	HeartlyLove	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448106172_1544233779464358_4473156375970779246_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HLcZDTBcqxMQ7kNvgG3PqQh&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AB7P-oBkJGsYjvWU8uPYF4F&oh=00_AYDKJoyPdRHElIjetSNcDMlgmsICMEvIa4bx7La2XHki-A&oe=6774995B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🦟 Transform your outdoor experience with the Norvure SolarGuard™ Bug Zapper. 🔋 Enjoy advanced solar and USB charging with a robust 4000mAh battery for long-lasting protection. 💡 Eliminate mosquitoes, flies, and gnats instantly with a 360° UV light and 4200V enhanced voltage. 🌟 Multi-functional design serves as a bug zapper, lighting lamp, and dynamic atmosphere light. ⚡️ Smart control technology with dusk-to-dawn sensor for hassle-free operation. 👇 Click Below To Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight!		HeartlyLove		747	https://www.facebook.com/100089641703840/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2653334	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:22 AM	1735316833	1745742179		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653549	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 8:50 PM	1735316857	1749261031		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653541	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 8:46 AM	1735316856	1749044777		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653528	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/30/25, 10:59 PM	1735316855	1748663971		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653550	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 11:06 AM	1735316857	1749139586		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653370	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 9:19 PM	1735316838	1749176343		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653496	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 7:55 AM	1735316851	1749041714		2141																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=v7KZcu1KOOwQ7kNvgEzKPp8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBFltcnwJPJGTyxx-FIQPbYeaMG7rpuLg05XLuFWf4JaQ&oe=6774BDF2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653266	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:23 AM	1735316824	1745742181		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16865&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471510284_1123968585334988_567416444404452472_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iAYugnBsr9IQ7kNvgG0JdZd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AB7P-oBkJGsYjvWU8uPYF4F&oh=00_AYAIcYmOnPh8PjoIfUbpx_m1No9O35IJTnUbr-rgWhExOQ&oe=6774C1D2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband Killian arrived late after my grandmother's funeral because he needed to be there for his first love. He looked like he ran in his wolf form. His hair is a mess, and his tie is not even tied properly. He was breathing so fast that he couldn’t even speak. My face turned blank as I locked gazes with him. “Astrid, I couldn’t leave early because I had something I needed to take care of.” My fists balled up at my sides as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Was there anything else more important than to be on your mate’s side at the time that she needed you the most?” I shot back at him. His eyes met mine and for a fleeting moment, a shadow of remorse flickered across his gaze “If only you hadn’t stopped me that night, I would have still met my grandma while she was still alive.” Killian’s grip on the bouquet tightened when he heard my words. “I had no idea I—“ “I kept telling you that my grandmother needed me!” I yelled, interrupting him from his words. “All you cared about is Giselle who is pre9nant with your child.” I blurted out finally releasing all the emotions that I have buried down long enough. Killian could not say a word. My heart which has always been heavy, felt lighter than it was after I finally told him the things that I’ve been wanting to tell him. I glanced at him in surprise when he suddenly crouched down and placed the bouquet of flowers that he brought on the ground where my grandmother had just been buried. “I only came here to pay my respects to your grandmother. I’m sorry if I was late, that was out of my control,” Killian replied like he didn’t just hear the rest of the words that I said. My breath turned shallow and my heart burned more in anger at his heartlessness. Unable to control myself anymore, I picked up the flowers and thrashed them on Killian until the flowers were all shredded into pieces. “You are here to pay respect?!” I screamed at him. I threw what was left of the flowers to the ground. “I’m tired of this. If you can’t give me respect, I should at least give myself some respect,” I spoke in a weak voice as I collected myself together. “Let’s just stop this joke and get a divorce,” I spoke firmly, looking at Killian directly in his eyes.		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653542	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 7:12 AM	1735316856	1749039159		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653483	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:23 AM	1735316851	1745742192		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653433	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 10:42 AM	1735316845	1749138142		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653512	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:23 AM	1735316853	1745742190		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465712025_1310177190395026_6626634496023458730_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MdmgbSm0_ZIQ7kNvgFKD-Ul&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBUsZbjDHbtnfNzICLOaH9BRHGAsP1lAWY9lSB2MqBwGA&oe=6774925C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“Where the f..k is she?” I hear the Beta scream. I already knew Beta Kyle was talking about me, the only servant of the house. I groan and get to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with me. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don’t make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times and only speak when spoken to, even if what they are doing to me hurts. “Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office like you were asked.” Beta Kyle spits at me. The name of my brother makes me shiver. I am Alpha Trey's only sister, yet I was reduced to be his slave while his Beta humiliates me however he likes. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If I could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. I resisted, he was stronger than me and I didn’t need locking up for another week with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” I don’t answer, I know it's a trick, to try and get me to say something so that he can give himself a reason to punish me. I keep my eyes low so that I didn’t have to look at his face. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. Words exchanged between the other pack members when I was in the room. From what I gathered, he was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn’t mess around and he had the largest pack. Also there was this rumor that Alpha Dane had killed all his 9 mates. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. Yet he doesn’t tell me why. We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He places his hands on my shoulders, digging his nails into my thinning skin and turns me around, kicking me in the back as he shoves me towards the office. ”Useless fucking Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Suddenly I hear someone clearing their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” I whisper, getting to my feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. He doesn’t introduce himself either, why should he? “Come forward.” He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey was going to kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I’m told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” I nod, though I couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” I whisper. I couldn’t help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? “Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” I hated the question. “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. I knew why I couldn’t scent him. I knew why I hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something I ever wanted or liked to do. They never let me tell my side of the story. All they do is laugh and mock me. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It’s rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound,” I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn’t interested in that part. He leans forward, carefully placing his glass on the small table next to the chair. I could feel him staring at me, “Why would someone do that?” If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” I whisper. It wasn’t far from the entire truth but it was the simplest answer I could give. There’s a twitch in Alpha Dane's cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me “Neah, what the f... are you doing in my office?” He turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap, it was him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. "Let go off me! It's none of your business" Trey's face turns red. Ignoring Trey's yelling, Alpha Dane says with his eyes set on me, "It is my business if she is to be my bride." I look up, my eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarls.		New world publications		3779	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653642	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 7:13 AM	1735316869	1749039222		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468200226_8863044273756961_6312928078787021587_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=eeuxQmbQP3kQ7kNvgGBwyKb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCqmYZyuOabJnFeJTFgoCap76vy0ZVA1PtjGKmJVv7FPQ&oe=6774BF04	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2653553	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 9:38 PM	1735316857	1749177482		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653571	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 11:32 AM	1735316859	1749141146		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bXiMAeg8mKAQ7kNvgHoVV9G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAn6Vh_sL9aPPovO0-gjEXK5ZU_8LJ5mw__VkG-YnGteA&oe=6774BE08	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653509	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:23 AM	1735316852	1745742192		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467898080_483621588062488_7306436897792904071_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ew-nlZI1lecQ7kNvgHb146K&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYDezpNxStOLn6Jo2KfSCJuBEnQ5_oafPH7Hadg1oruSDw&oe=67749AEE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2653424	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:23 AM	1735316844	1745742192		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653341	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 5:55 PM	1735316834	1749423313		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653273	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/7/25, 9:04 PM	1735316825	1749348279		2141																										norvure.com	Shop now			IMAGE	2 in 1 Physical and Chemical Sunscreen Combo SPF50+	40% Off Until Midnight	https://norvure.com/products/peptide-9-2-in-1-physical-and-chemical-sunscreen-combo-spf50-2-pack			1.0499263250923E+14	HeartlyLove	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448021995_337544909209207_3162185024599472423_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CXNcSybQ1ZgQ7kNvgEus7Q9&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AB7P-oBkJGsYjvWU8uPYF4F&oh=00_AYBf0uMGb1ZTZZnWX7uabIL0zkgi3VkuXs5TwlAQKIHg6g&oe=67749900	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🌞 Ready for superior sun protection on the go? 🛡️ Meet Peptide 9 Bio Sun Stick – SPF 50+ and 9 Peptide Complex for youthful skin. 💪 Combines physical and chemical sunscreens for unbeatable UV defense. 🏊 Water-resistant, sweat-resistant, and perfect for outdoor adventures. 😌 Non-greasy, non-sticky – enjoy smooth, comfortable skin without the white cast. 👇Click Below To Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight!		HeartlyLove		747	https://www.facebook.com/100089641703840/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2653591	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 1:14 PM	1735316863	1745777681		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653628	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 2:25 AM	1735316868	1749194717		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653267	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 9:18 PM	1735316825	1749435537		2141																										norvure.com	Shop now			IMAGE	2 in 1 Physical and Chemical Sunscreen Combo SPF50+	40% Off Until Midnight	https://norvure.com/products/peptide-9-2-in-1-physical-and-chemical-sunscreen-combo-spf50-2-pack			1.0499263250923E+14	HeartlyLove	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/447840251_1718065185395996_6664997106785611123_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=F9VET0GZyqAQ7kNvgGJsfvq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AB7P-oBkJGsYjvWU8uPYF4F&oh=00_AYD_pRrwlDaxY75h10vt4MuUK3yp5K3XbfIm0T-RTf9-LA&oe=6774A59E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🌞 Ready for superior sun protection on the go? 🛡️ Meet Peptide 9 Bio Sun Stick – SPF 50+ and 9 Peptide Complex for youthful skin. 💪 Combines physical and chemical sunscreens for unbeatable UV defense. 🏊 Water-resistant, sweat-resistant, and perfect for outdoor adventures. 😌 Non-greasy, non-sticky – enjoy smooth, comfortable skin without the white cast. 👇Click Below To Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight!		HeartlyLove		747	https://www.facebook.com/100089641703840/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2653548	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 12:01 AM	1735316857	1749445266		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653425	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/20/25, 2:32 AM	1735316844	1747726369		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653643	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/20/25, 2:36 AM	1735316869	1747726604		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468465156_1506299716740391_2726931569943692600_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=l14Fj2ejmrsQ7kNvgHR0Yat&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAObna_Ei7_33f6msGPQpS-kbbWAFAsZ8HYhBb47OO1gw&oe=6774A229	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2653339	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 2:05 AM	1735316833	1749452733		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653466	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 5:31 AM	1735316850	1749465066		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653440	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 8:22 AM	1735316846	1749475339		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653523	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 7:57 AM	1735316855	1749473826		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653441	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 8:36 AM	1735316846	1749476197		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653641	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 1:56 AM	1735316869	1749797808		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653308	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 10:09 AM	1735316831	1749481758		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653463	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 9:45 AM	1735316849	1749480358		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653262	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 9:50 AM	1735316824	1749480640		2141																										mypetcanvas.com	Shop Now			DCO	Transform Your Pet's Photo into Vibrant Art!	Trusted by Over 12K Pet Parents	https://mypetcanvas.com/products/basquiat-canvas			1.0388033180679E+14	My Pet Canvas	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/453017146_422292733458631_8129222518644715058_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cwyXqz_K8iQQ7kNvgErz6zR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AB7P-oBkJGsYjvWU8uPYF4F&oh=00_AYB2REWxXfWYcw5aornwuPpKcz2bOrQPgZLkD7W2mzl_Vw&oe=6774A9A4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🐶 Surprise your loved ones with a personalized portrait of their furry friend! Each canvas is a unique work of art, created with love and attention to detail. Order now at mypetcanvas.com		My Pet Canvas		1528	https://www.facebook.com/mypet.canvas.official/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2653623	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 10:54 AM	1735316867	1749484466		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653386	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 10:55 AM	1735316839	1749484521		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470175300_636437355379679_5074952063242663045_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lyDnXFRua6sQ7kNvgEcJC76&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYByI7xtyRsV-mth-Cw2zPC33oiB0-Z4aiOBFSpT0Vysjg&oe=6774A1F5	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... “Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...		New world publications		3779	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653464	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 1:17 PM	1735316849	1749493038		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2653584	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 5:54 PM	1735316861	1749509668		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653292	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 7:17 PM	1735316828	1749514661		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LAQnGx2cmcoQ7kNvgEZ9SO4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYAq_3s7qhV-wr0CYNsdD1UtkEy2mIHUInQkHAs_Rx9h0g&oe=6774BE2C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653307	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 2:44 PM	1735316830	1748979843		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653500	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/7/25, 1:14 PM	1735316852	1749320100		2141																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=v7KZcu1KOOwQ7kNvgEzKPp8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBFltcnwJPJGTyxx-FIQPbYeaMG7rpuLg05XLuFWf4JaQ&oe=6774BDF2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653486	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 2:44 PM	1735316851	1748979865		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653547	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 2:44 PM	1735316857	1748979879		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653439	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 2:44 PM	1735316845	1748979891		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653359	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 7:14 PM	1735316835	1749514470		2141																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470193561_548974101286184_6285608318089522187_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=83XE9mEkFXUQ7kNvgFfM8am&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCvRYqdGOlzCAzuRtZ_nqnGdkf9QbGqH_a7lolVlLoFgg&oe=6774A9A5	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		127	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653644	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 2:48 PM	1735316869	1748980093		2141																										weihunyu.com	Learn more			IMAGE	이곳을 클릭하고 무료로 읽어보세요!		https://weihunyu.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14990&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.8305355155039E+14	소설의 세계	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471482625_1101816011725383_4177695463050735697_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bptyDqxubusQ7kNvgGG8rEe&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAdKQnI5vHQAEG1kriTuLBm-1JaFbYnSJgaDZFHd3lAiQ&oe=6774B001	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		차에서 내리자 나는 저택을 향해 천천히 걸어갔다. 손은 떨리고 몸은 땀으로 범벅이 되었다. 가방에 서류가 있음에도 나는 아직도 그와 이혼했다는 사실이 믿기지 않았다. 집 안으로 들어서자 희미했던 목소리는 점점 더 뚜렷하게 들려왔다. “왜 저랑 엄마랑 같이 살기 싫은 거예요?” 지훈이가 아빠에게 물었다. 아들의 목소리를 듣자 나는 가슴이 미어지는 것 같았다. 아들을 위해서라면 뭐든지 할 수 있었지만 이혼만큼은 어쩔 수 없었다. 우리의 결혼은 처음부터 잘못된 거였다. “지훈아, 너도 알잖아. 난 네 엄마랑 같이 못 살아.” 남편은 부드럽게 대답했다. 결혼 생활 내내 그는 나에게 한 번도 부드럽게 말한 적이 없었다. 항상 차갑고 무뚝뚝한 목소리였다. “왜요?” “별 이유가 없어.” “엄마를 사랑하지 않으세요?” 나는 이미 대답을 알고 있다. 지훈이를 제외한 모든 사람은 그 답을 알고 있을 것이다. 사실 그는 나를 사랑하지 않았다. 한 번도 사랑한 적이 없었고 앞으로도 그럴 것이다. 그는 목을 가다듬으며 시간을 끌었다. “지훈아...” “엄마를 사랑하냐고요?” 남편은 땅이 꺼지도록 한숨을 쉬었다. “너를 낳아줘서 고맙지.” 그건 대답이 아니라 위로였다. 나는 너무 슬픈 나머지 지그시 눈을 감았다. 그의 대답을 기대한 내가 바보였다. 그는 결혼 생활 내내 나에게 솔직하지 못했다. 나는 그에게 모든 것을 주었지만 돌아온 것은 고통과 상처뿐이었다. 우리는 결혼했지만, 둘만의 결혼이 아니라 셋이 함께하는 결혼 같았다. 우리 둘 그리고 그가 9년 동안 포기하지 못한 그 여자와 함께 말이다. “이렇게 몰래 엿듣는 건 예의가 아니지.” 그의 차분한 목소리가 들리자 나는 깜짝 놀랐다. 정신을 차린 후 나는 어깨를 펴고 부엌으로 들어갔다. 카운터 옆에 서 있는 저 남자는 나의 전남편인 우현수이다. 그의 눈빛을 보자 나는 얼어붙었다. 그래서 자연스럽게 아들 지훈이를 쳐다봤다. “지훈아.” “엄마!” “보고 싶었어요.” “나도 보고 싶었어.” 나는 지훈이의 이마에 가볍게 뽀뽀하고 지훈이는 다시 샌드위치를 먹으러 갔다. 한때는 내 집이었던 곳에서 나는 어색하게 서 있었다. 나는 처음부터 이곳과 맞지 않았다. 우현수는 알게 모르게 그녀를 염두에 두고 집을 지었다. 이건 그녀를 포기하지 않을 거라는 첫 번째 신호였다. 전혀 나를 생각하지도 않았다. “여기서 뭐 해?” “지훈이랑 있을 때 무턱대고 찾아오지 말라고 했잖아.” “그래... 오늘 이혼 판결문을 받고 그걸 너에게 주고 지훈이를 데려오고 싶어서...” 그러자 우현수의 안색은 금세 어두워졌다. 나는 그의 표정을 보며 가슴이 미어지는 것 같았다. 나는 정말 그를 사랑했지만 그에게 나는 아무 의미 없는 존재였다. 그는 한 번 또 한 번 나에게 상처를 줬다. 나는 참고 버티면서 그가 변할 거라고 생각했지만 달라진 건 아무것도 없었다. 나는 가슴을 문지르며 감정을 추슬렀다. 몇 달 동안 헤어져 있었음에도 여전히 가슴이 아팠다. “지훈아, 네 방으로 돌아가. 너희 엄마랑 할 얘기가 있어.” 지훈이는 우리를 잠시 바라보더니 고개를 끄덕였다. “싸우지 마세요.” 지훈이가 멀리 떠난 것을 확인하자 우현수는 화가 난 듯 카운터를 세게 내리쳤고 눈빛은 얼음처럼 차가웠다. “사무실로 보내도 되잖아. 왜 꼭 지훈이랑 있을 때 찾아 와?” “현수야...” 나는 한숨을 쉬며 말을 이어가지 못했다. “닥쳐! 너는 9년 전 내 인생을 망쳤어. 그러면서 뭐라고? 이혼? 그게 네가 복수하는 방식이야? 한수아! 당장 꺼져!” 우현수는 숨이 가쁘도록 욕설을 쏟아부었다. 그의 말들은 마치 총알처럼 나에게 다가왔다. 이미 상처 난 나의 가슴을 다시 한번 산산조각 내는 것 같았다. “나는...” 사랑하는 남자에게서 꺼지라는 말을 들었을 때 나는 무슨 말을 해야 할까? “당장 이 집에서 꺼져... 돌아갈 시간이 되면 지훈이를 데려다 줄 거니까.” 우현수는 신경질적으로 소리쳤다. 이혼 판결문을 카운터 위에 내려놓고 사과하려고 하는 순간 핸드폰이 울렸다. 엄마한테서 걸려 온 전화였다. 엄마는 중요한 일이 있을 때만 전화를 건다. 그래서 모른 척할 수 없었다. “엄마...” 내 말이 끝나기도 전에 엄마가 말을 끊었다. “당장 병원으로 와! 네 아빠가 칼에 찔렸어.” 충격을 받은 나는 핸드폰을 땅에 떨구었다. “무슨 일이야?” 우현수가 물었다. 나는 떨리는 심장을 부여잡고 고개도 들지 않은 채 핸드폰을 주우며 대답했다. “아빠가 칼에 찔렸어.”		소설의 세계		687	https://www.facebook.com/61557428073507/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653473	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 2:51 PM	1735316850	1748980278		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467764259_1079457820306065_9044113301720336116_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qWEWpaGKhYAQ7kNvgEBmGGf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYAcRd78a_OYWsTspa3du8xy_vUQAus36Ge1m0RKK0AWug&oe=6774B53D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2653447	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 3:05 PM	1735316846	1748981146		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653291	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 3:00 PM	1735316828	1748980829		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LAQnGx2cmcoQ7kNvgEZ9SO4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYAq_3s7qhV-wr0CYNsdD1UtkEy2mIHUInQkHAs_Rx9h0g&oe=6774BE2C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653438	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 3:00 PM	1735316845	1748980832		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653434	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 3:01 PM	1735316845	1748980873		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653345	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 9:26 PM	1735316834	1749522383		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653502	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 7:48 PM	1735316852	1749257288		2141																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=v7KZcu1KOOwQ7kNvgEzKPp8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBFltcnwJPJGTyxx-FIQPbYeaMG7rpuLg05XLuFWf4JaQ&oe=6774BDF2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653467	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 2:59 PM	1735316850	1748980744		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653366	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 7:54 AM	1735316838	1749041662		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653261	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 7:49 AM	1735316822	1749041367		2141																										nordastro.com	Learn more			IMAGE	#1 Personalized Astrology Book		https://nordastro.com/start?qz=na1&locale=EN_US			3.8747147444381E+14	Nordastro	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465440445_2332225843783298_3175356712100923524_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k56eEK2LrVUQ7kNvgGwsvI4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AB7P-oBkJGsYjvWU8uPYF4F&oh=00_AYBpufsRMYoYmpFxteLoxQ_AFuuXFVFAA0iuCyMeZriOBQ&oe=67749C90	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🔮 By completing the QUIZ, you will receive your personalized analysis, which includes: ♐ The zodiac sign and personality type of the partner you will marry 🗺️ Your life path prognosis 💸 Career & success guidance to attract money ⭐ Personalized birth chart analysis		Nordastro		10436	https://www.facebook.com/61562597241042/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653398	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 7:58 AM	1735316840	1749041933		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=aBMylyCgSRQQ7kNvgHK8gwq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBWCydhMgyb_tE6P_Q7Mja0Hn4uP-j7hb8p8M8OWMzn6g&oe=6774A9BD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653475	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 1:34 PM	1735316850	1749753249		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653299	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 7:32 PM	1735316828	1749774728		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653432	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/28/25, 9:41 AM	1735316845	1745851317		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653310	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/28/25, 9:41 AM	1735316831	1745851318		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653495	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 8:12 AM	1735316851	1749042740		2141																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=v7KZcu1KOOwQ7kNvgEzKPp8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBFltcnwJPJGTyxx-FIQPbYeaMG7rpuLg05XLuFWf4JaQ&oe=6774BDF2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653325	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/10/25, 11:34 PM	1735316833	1749616462		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653460	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 8:17 AM	1735316849	1749043045		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYA6buUeOfHPCQ6W2HfritNX6Ax7gIFdVt28ZpA0pYGTmw&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653477	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 8:44 AM	1735316850	1749044693		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653635	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 11:49 AM	1735316868	1749746964		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653632	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 11:12 PM	1735316868	1749787966		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653625	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/10/25, 12:18 AM	1735316868	1749532729		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653471	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/10/25, 2:53 PM	1735316850	1749585228		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653630	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/10/25, 5:02 PM	1735316868	1749592932		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653619	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/24/25, 12:43 PM	1735316867	1748108607		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lSWN8bIs1PwQ7kNvgEI0lan&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCvSeh9XF59NPtoo2t9RTsIsyuARVXi77TUwcoWPzQT-g&oe=67749A6C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653533	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 8:20 PM	1735316855	1749864004		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653559	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/8/25, 8:22 AM	1735316858	1746710556		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653594	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 1:42 AM	1735316864	1749624129		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653330	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 1:18 AM	1735316833	1749622703		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653565	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/10/25, 11:51 PM	1735316859	1749617472		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bXiMAeg8mKAQ7kNvgHoVV9G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAn6Vh_sL9aPPovO0-gjEXK5ZU_8LJ5mw__VkG-YnGteA&oe=6774BE08	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653319	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 5:12 AM	1735316832	1749636778		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653316	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 9:30 AM	1735316832	1749652219		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653520	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 1:22 PM	1735316854	1749666164		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7pHgEWCb0_sQ7kNvgG_vGHW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC3mDOikVmVx9ltVUgaBwDWGLkdsZgpw6Tz6CwBmvcUeQ&oe=6774BAD2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653446	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/27/25, 1:00 AM	1735316846	1748325655		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2653306	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 8:03 PM	1735316829	1749690232		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		New world publications		3779	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653537	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 1:25 AM	1735316855	1749709548		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653276	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 6:02 AM	1735316825	1749726169		2141																										norvure.com	Shop now			IMAGE	2 in 1 Physical and Chemical Sunscreen Combo SPF50+	40% Off Until Midnight	https://norvure.com/products/peptide-9-2-in-1-physical-and-chemical-sunscreen-combo-spf50-2-pack			1.0499263250923E+14	HeartlyLove	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448075521_751810550195118_764718425287112450_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=aCgy5qCVk7UQ7kNvgH0rb8E&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AB7P-oBkJGsYjvWU8uPYF4F&oh=00_AYDOZrbq1WXHKWw-_2vR-iTBBVZzvYz177Dq0cZ6ckdGzg&oe=6774A70F	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🌞 Ready for superior sun protection on the go? 🛡️ Meet Peptide 9 Bio Sun Stick – SPF 50+ and 9 Peptide Complex for youthful skin. 💪 Combines physical and chemical sunscreens for unbeatable UV defense. 🏊 Water-resistant, sweat-resistant, and perfect for outdoor adventures. 😌 Non-greasy, non-sticky – enjoy smooth, comfortable skin without the white cast. 👇Click Below To Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight!		HeartlyLove		747	https://www.facebook.com/100089641703840/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2653610	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 7:52 AM	1735316865	1749732721		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653579	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 12:50 PM	1735316860	1749750624		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bfmBZkC3sDYQ7kNvgEHiS6x&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC53dsnQgqBR-ntKHtC3O_nzmfUyAPM5nbycrkj3Jp8Uw&oe=6774906B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653577	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 1:37 PM	1735316860	1749753470		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bfmBZkC3sDYQ7kNvgEHiS6x&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC53dsnQgqBR-ntKHtC3O_nzmfUyAPM5nbycrkj3Jp8Uw&oe=6774906B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653544	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 9:44 PM	1735316857	1749091466		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653583	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 3:28 PM	1735316860	1749760135		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2653290	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 7:58 PM	1735316828	1749257902		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LAQnGx2cmcoQ7kNvgEZ9SO4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYAq_3s7qhV-wr0CYNsdD1UtkEy2mIHUInQkHAs_Rx9h0g&oe=6774BE2C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653294	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 5:02 PM	1735316828	1749420128		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LAQnGx2cmcoQ7kNvgEZ9SO4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYAq_3s7qhV-wr0CYNsdD1UtkEy2mIHUInQkHAs_Rx9h0g&oe=6774BE2C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653298	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 1:10 PM	1735316828	1749406218		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LAQnGx2cmcoQ7kNvgEZ9SO4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYAq_3s7qhV-wr0CYNsdD1UtkEy2mIHUInQkHAs_Rx9h0g&oe=6774BE2C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653300	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 7:44 PM	1735316828	1749170659		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653303	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 11:44 PM	1735316828	1749444265		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653305	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 5:46 PM	1735316829	1749249971		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653312	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 1:23 PM	1735316832	1749234239		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653318	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 4:22 PM	1735316832	1749417747		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653320	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/9/25, 12:39 AM	1735316832	1746769155		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653322	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/7/25, 8:42 PM	1735316833	1749346973		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653326	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 4:47 AM	1735316833	1749462469		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653328	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 9:10 PM	1735316833	1749175804		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653333	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/10/25, 2:29 AM	1735316833	1749540564		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653335	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 1:30 PM	1735316833	1749666656		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653337	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 2:44 AM	1735316833	1749195896		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653347	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 6:22 PM	1735316834	1749165768		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653349	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 1:43 AM	1735316834	1749192210		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653358	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 12:04 PM	1735316835	1749747873		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653361	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/30/25, 10:59 PM	1735316835	1748663961		2141																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470205257_1300521031021569_4216717637159244443_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Y4tkN-a4-iwQ7kNvgHsD_eq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYAGppGaLLMgZXRqHuOdRls1bWHyHcmbhyilRjRj3p2DPw&oe=6774B9B2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		127	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653372	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 10:04 AM	1735316839	1749740661		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653377	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/27/25, 3:57 PM	1735316839	1745787474		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653382	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 10:54 PM	1735316839	1749700500		2141																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468656477_907268181560235_3884693488763478476_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ni2pY_YW7GsQ7kNvgE5wLV3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCmvGdhjE-yQDKVm8evuX0rj1yb-yEHrq2g2Xnu-tOvLg&oe=67749D2F	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった。		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		127	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653385	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 8:08 PM	1735316839	1749776896		2141																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470205780_2846819415500339_5040858801296977721_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=IRZhNRvnmzEQ7kNvgF-4pCF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYCJBKuW3bBm0kFEAeyBAxfZj_dHYArH-1DhDQzT14kdpA&oe=67748DD6	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった。		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		127	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653387	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/10/25, 9:36 AM	1735316839	1749566187		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470561418_995607282410462_4988201966156102680_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_wolFO567ggQ7kNvgHdMZvv&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYDARiN8KAaxoRZVvFW26lNABJTyjXzY3ZD51Xv3yz0AEw&oe=67748F54	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2653391	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 3:45 AM	1735316840	1749199539		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653397	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 3:20 PM	1735316840	1749154806		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653405	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 10:40 AM	1735316841	1749138053		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653407	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/25/25, 4:36 PM	1735316841	1748209013		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653409	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 12:17 PM	1735316842	1749143874		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653411	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 10:33 AM	1735316842	1749137611		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653413	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 7:49 PM	1735316842	1749257345		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653416	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/25/25, 4:37 PM	1735316842	1748209035		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653419	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 6:01 AM	1735316842	1749034892		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653421	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 12:22 PM	1735316843	1749230522		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653427	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/9/25, 5:27 PM	1735316844	1746829647		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653429	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 11:04 AM	1735316845	1749225867		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653431	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 4:17 PM	1735316845	1749244676		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653435	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 7:54 PM	1735316845	1749171291		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653443	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 3:49 PM	1735316846	1749156566		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466339821_8377111545747898_1672242639180555645_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=neNzI_OR1ccQ7kNvgGAhvUf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYDWdp8PJZKhdGs365bmRuRbFYsgppzxPPKqtDkp2Vvc-Q&oe=677498AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... “Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...		New world publications		3779	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653461	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 7:21 PM	1735316849	1749169262		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYA6buUeOfHPCQ6W2HfritNX6Ax7gIFdVt28ZpA0pYGTmw&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653469	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 5:51 AM	1735316850	1749034278		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653479	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 6:03 AM	1735316850	1749035009		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653490	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 5:39 AM	1735316851	1749033587		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653499	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/25/25, 4:46 PM	1735316852	1748209573		2141																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=v7KZcu1KOOwQ7kNvgEzKPp8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBFltcnwJPJGTyxx-FIQPbYeaMG7rpuLg05XLuFWf4JaQ&oe=6774BDF2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653501	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 11:54 AM	1735316852	1749142447		2141																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=v7KZcu1KOOwQ7kNvgEzKPp8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBFltcnwJPJGTyxx-FIQPbYeaMG7rpuLg05XLuFWf4JaQ&oe=6774BDF2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653508	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 6:34 PM	1735316852	1749166444		2141																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468040394_3933977183502200_7038075179489997441_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zbchAYbQSNQQ7kNvgHAYwqf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBLVTbOSm1H0p1QWHwEBd0RZ_uvdMjYY544KqvVhr0YCQ&oe=67749FF8	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が胃がんと診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、元カノと一緒に彼女の子どもの定期検査をしていた。 病院で、優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらいだ。優子の場合はまず化学治療をしてから手術を行うべきだ。それで浸潤や転移のリスクは防げる。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、ようやく言葉を吐き出した。「ありがとう。」 「何を？すぐに入院手続きをするよ。」 「そんな必要ないわ。治療を受けるつもりはない。」 悠斗は何か言いたそうだったが、優子は軽く頭を下げて制した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 実家の高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗はため息をつき、諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さんは――」 「先輩、父のことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 優子が医学部を中退して結婚したという噂が流れていた。かつては医学部の天才と呼ばれた彼女が、今ではその栄光を失い、荒れ果てた生活を送っている。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては峻介も優子を大切にしていた。だが、彼の元カノ松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。その後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は――母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、もう拒否するつもりはない。彼女は震える手で電話をかけた。 3回目のコールで電話がつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえながら、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。優子の家族を壊した彼が、今里美と新しい家庭を築こうとしている。すべてを終わらせる時が来た。 優子は前のように彼にすがることはしなかった。震える声で呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 優子は目を閉じて言った。「家で待ってるから。」 そう言うと、全力で電話を切った彼女は廊下に吹き込む雨風に濡れながら、袖を噛んで声を上げずに泣いた。 峻介は、電話が切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。一年間、拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今日に限って急に同意したか？それに、彼女の声には涙の気配があった。 窓の外、大雨が叩きつけるのを見ながら、彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が診察室を出た俊介に子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ ずぶ濡れになった優子が家に帰った時、俊介はすでに待ちくたびれていた。スーツ姿でスラリとしたその男は、机のそばに立っていた。整った顔には氷のような無表情。視線が優子に向いた時、暗い瞳には溢れんばかりの憎悪が渦巻いていた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」彼が冷たく尋ねた。 かつて輝いていた優子の瞳は、今は虚ろだった。ただ淡々と答えた。「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 峻介は鼻で笑いながら言った。「お前死んだら、離婚届のサインどうする？」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女は書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類を机に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」 嘲笑を浮かべた彼の顔が、優子の視界を覆った。 かつての優子なら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今はただ疲れ果てていて、ただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、2億円しか要求しなかった。まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 彼は一歩前に進み、彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。 「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。明日の朝9時、市役所で離婚届と書類を持ってきてください。」 そう言い捨てると、優子は俊介の手を振り払って、一人で寝室へ向かった。 暗闇の中で、優子は心の中でつぶやいた。お父さんにこのお金を残せれば、あとは安心して天国の我が子のもとへ行ける… 翌朝、優子が家を出ようとした矢先、電話がかかってきた。「髙橋さん、お父様が突然心臓発作を起こされまして、緊急手術に入りました。」 「えっ？！」優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われ、手にしていた書類を落としそうになった。「すぐに向かいます！」 優子は一目散に病院へ駆けつけたが、手術はまだ終わっていなかった。看護師が書類を差し出してきた。「髙橋さん、こちらがお父様の手術費用の明細書です。」 手渡された明細に目を通すと、記載されていた額は300万円にも及んでいた。 でも通帳には10万円しか残っていない。どうしても足りなかった！ 追い詰められた優子は仕方なく俊介に電話をかけた。電話から聞こえる声には冷たさが滲んでいた。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「髙橋優子、これでおもしろい？」俊介は冷笑を漏らしながら続けた。「お前が突然素直になるわけがないと思ったら、そういうことか。くだらない嘘で俺をバカにしてるのか？」 この男は、嘘だと思っている……。優子は必死に説明した。「嘘なんかついてない！父が急に心臓発作を起こして、手術代が300万円もかかるの……お願い、助けて……」 「死んだのか？」俊介の冷酷な一言が、鋭い刃のように優子の心をえぐった。いくら彼女を憎まれているとはいえ、父上の死を願うなんてひどすぎる。 「まだ手術中……」優子は深呼吸して震える声を押さえ込み、歯を食いしばって言った。「あの慰謝料、先にくれない？絶対に離婚するって約束する！」 電話の向こうから、俊介が鼻で笑う音が聞こえた。「お前の父親が俺の唯一の妹を殺したんだ。あいつがこうなったのは当然の報いだ。金が欲しいなら、あいつが死んでからにしろ。」 プツッ。電話の切れる音が、優子を冷たい現実に引き戻した。充血した目をする彼女の顔には、信じられないという表情が浮かんでいた。「父親が妹を殺した」とは、一体どういう意味？彼と出会ってから、彼に妹がいるなんて話、一度も聞いたことがないのだ！ 2年前、髙橋家が突然破産し、父が植物状態になった出来事が脳裏をよぎる。そして全てが繋がったかのような嫌な予感が、優子の心を冷え切らせた。 ――佐藤俊介、あなたが私を妻にしたのは、もしかして復讐のためだったの？！		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		127	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653522	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/25/25, 4:46 PM	1735316855	1748209571		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7pHgEWCb0_sQ7kNvgG_vGHW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC3mDOikVmVx9ltVUgaBwDWGLkdsZgpw6Tz6CwBmvcUeQ&oe=6774BAD2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653526	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/30/25, 10:59 PM	1735316855	1748663966		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653534	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/6/25, 12:13 PM	1735316855	1749229990		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653539	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 7:46 PM	1735316856	1749170778		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653592	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 5:39 AM	1735316864	1749033589		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653595	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 4:35 PM	1735316864	1749159310		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653597	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 5:40 AM	1735316864	1749033612		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653599	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/7/25, 1:11 AM	1735316864	1749276705		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653611	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/28/25, 8:24 PM	1735316865	1745889897		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653618	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 6:07 AM	1735316867	1749035227		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lSWN8bIs1PwQ7kNvgEI0lan&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCvSeh9XF59NPtoo2t9RTsIsyuARVXi77TUwcoWPzQT-g&oe=67749A6C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653621	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 5:53 AM	1735316867	1749034416		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lSWN8bIs1PwQ7kNvgEI0lan&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCvSeh9XF59NPtoo2t9RTsIsyuARVXi77TUwcoWPzQT-g&oe=67749A6C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653627	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/5/25, 5:36 AM	1735316868	1749119801		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653638	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/30/25, 10:59 PM	1735316869	1748663968		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2653631	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 4:32 PM	1735316868	1749763968		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653442	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 6:56 PM	1735316846	1749772577		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653614	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 9:52 PM	1735316865	1749783131		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lSWN8bIs1PwQ7kNvgEI0lan&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCvSeh9XF59NPtoo2t9RTsIsyuARVXi77TUwcoWPzQT-g&oe=67749A6C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653402	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 12:37 AM	1735316841	1749793075		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=aBMylyCgSRQQ7kNvgHK8gwq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBWCydhMgyb_tE6P_Q7Mja0Hn4uP-j7hb8p8M8OWMzn6g&oe=6774A9BD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653389	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 12:45 AM	1735316840	1749793501		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653340	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 1:31 AM	1735316834	1749796293		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653589	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 2:19 AM	1735316861	1749799191		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653368	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 1:37 AM	1735316838	1749796674		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653293	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 1:40 AM	1735316828	1749796860		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LAQnGx2cmcoQ7kNvgEZ9SO4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYAq_3s7qhV-wr0CYNsdD1UtkEy2mIHUInQkHAs_Rx9h0g&oe=6774BE2C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653284	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 2:47 AM	1735316826	1749800820		2141																										norvure.com	Shop now			IMAGE	2 in 1 Physical and Chemical Sunscreen Combo SPF50+	40% Off Until Midnight	https://norvure.com/products/peptide-9-2-in-1-physical-and-chemical-sunscreen-combo-spf50-2-pack			1.0499263250923E+14	HeartlyLove	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448134581_1528333388102910_7050010973605501980_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=QIeMuuyl30wQ7kNvgHJ7fCx&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYAce83_yYeBYHztO4tDj_kizdDkvuBIKYhhY0wyIFzxfw&oe=67749A37	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🌞 Ready for superior sun protection on the go? 🛡️ Meet Peptide 9 Bio Sun Stick – SPF 50+ and 9 Peptide Complex for youthful skin. 💪 Combines physical and chemical sunscreens for unbeatable UV defense. 🏊 Water-resistant, sweat-resistant, and perfect for outdoor adventures. 😌 Non-greasy, non-sticky – enjoy smooth, comfortable skin without the white cast. 👇Click Below To Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight!		HeartlyLove		747	https://www.facebook.com/100089641703840/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2653403	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 8:11 AM	1735316841	1746018716		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=aBMylyCgSRQQ7kNvgHK8gwq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBWCydhMgyb_tE6P_Q7Mja0Hn4uP-j7hb8p8M8OWMzn6g&oe=6774A9BD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653410	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 4:33 AM	1735316842	1749807227		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653400	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/10/25, 8:05 PM	1735316840	1749603925		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=aBMylyCgSRQQ7kNvgHK8gwq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBWCydhMgyb_tE6P_Q7Mja0Hn4uP-j7hb8p8M8OWMzn6g&oe=6774A9BD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653519	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 6:05 AM	1735316854	1749035147		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7pHgEWCb0_sQ7kNvgG_vGHW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC3mDOikVmVx9ltVUgaBwDWGLkdsZgpw6Tz6CwBmvcUeQ&oe=6774BAD2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653484	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/30/25, 12:57 PM	1735316851	1748627878		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653488	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/30/25, 1:08 PM	1735316851	1748628502		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653478	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/30/25, 1:14 PM	1735316850	1748628841		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653415	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 9:06 AM	1735316842	1746021980		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653350	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 9:14 AM	1735316834	1746022490		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653521	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 2:35 PM	1735316854	1746041708		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7pHgEWCb0_sQ7kNvgG_vGHW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC3mDOikVmVx9ltVUgaBwDWGLkdsZgpw6Tz6CwBmvcUeQ&oe=6774BAD2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653564	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 2:35 PM	1735316859	1746041715		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bXiMAeg8mKAQ7kNvgHoVV9G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAn6Vh_sL9aPPovO0-gjEXK5ZU_8LJ5mw__VkG-YnGteA&oe=6774BE08	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653524	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/30/25, 10:59 PM	1735316855	1748663960		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653527	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/30/25, 10:59 PM	1735316855	1748663968		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653529	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/30/25, 10:59 PM	1735316855	1748663980		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653634	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/30/25, 11:04 PM	1735316868	1748664241		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653640	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 3:17 AM	1735316869	1749370637		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653420	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 10:30 AM	1735316842	1746027029		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653556	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 2:26 PM	1735316857	1746041173		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653514	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 2:26 PM	1735316854	1746041173		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7pHgEWCb0_sQ7kNvgG_vGHW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC3mDOikVmVx9ltVUgaBwDWGLkdsZgpw6Tz6CwBmvcUeQ&oe=6774BAD2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653513	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 2:26 PM	1735316854	1746041175		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7pHgEWCb0_sQ7kNvgG_vGHW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC3mDOikVmVx9ltVUgaBwDWGLkdsZgpw6Tz6CwBmvcUeQ&oe=6774BAD2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653560	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 2:26 PM	1735316858	1746041177		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653430	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/3/25, 11:16 AM	1735316845	1748967414		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653557	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 2:26 PM	1735316857	1746041179		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OZ8jtxBk5lwQ7kNvgEZgDLl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYD_IKzg7HjX_Y8Ev1SkQS707LzspJw6JPuqyF7LbHm3rg&oe=6774B89B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653406	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 2:26 PM	1735316841	1746041180		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653426	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 2:26 PM	1735316844	1746041180		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653518	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 2:26 PM	1735316854	1746041186		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7pHgEWCb0_sQ7kNvgG_vGHW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC3mDOikVmVx9ltVUgaBwDWGLkdsZgpw6Tz6CwBmvcUeQ&oe=6774BAD2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653569	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 2:42 PM	1735316859	1746042178		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bXiMAeg8mKAQ7kNvgHoVV9G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAn6Vh_sL9aPPovO0-gjEXK5ZU_8LJ5mw__VkG-YnGteA&oe=6774BE08	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653396	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	4/30/25, 3:57 PM	1735316840	1746046668		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653275	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 5:59 AM	1735316825	1749812358		2141																										norvure.com	Shop now			IMAGE	2 in 1 Physical and Chemical Sunscreen Combo SPF50+	40% Off Until Midnight	https://norvure.com/products/peptide-9-2-in-1-physical-and-chemical-sunscreen-combo-spf50-2-pack			1.0499263250923E+14	HeartlyLove	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448226581_3257910371014797_3274514783013147944_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=fqFlfRCRndQQ7kNvgHAbQOG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AB7P-oBkJGsYjvWU8uPYF4F&oh=00_AYDZAsjCzLmWGQCjEC2pn-rsSCrK65euSvW6LfCCdKawlw&oe=6774BDC4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🌞 Ready for superior sun protection on the go? 🛡️ Meet Peptide 9 Bio Sun Stick – SPF 50+ and 9 Peptide Complex for youthful skin. 💪 Combines physical and chemical sunscreens for unbeatable UV defense. 🏊 Water-resistant, sweat-resistant, and perfect for outdoor adventures. 😌 Non-greasy, non-sticky – enjoy smooth, comfortable skin without the white cast. 👇Click Below To Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight!		HeartlyLove		747	https://www.facebook.com/100089641703840/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2653604	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 6:10 AM	1735316865	1749813046		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653598	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 6:23 AM	1735316864	1749813812		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653353	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 6:29 AM	1735316834	1749814148		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653360	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 10:11 AM	1735316835	1749827508		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468861305_1082343766718684_3636329492503235384_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=d-d013INv-EQ7kNvgGDNcGl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYAsVlSh2Xm0j_dBBglSzwFPdJ1nPR4dhpe5hFHflDNp1A&oe=6774A806	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2653344	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 1:09 PM	1735316834	1749838183		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653365	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 7:18 PM	1735316838	1749860332		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653639	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 7:36 PM	1735316869	1749861390		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653567	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 6:59 PM	1735316859	1749859194		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bXiMAeg8mKAQ7kNvgHoVV9G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAn6Vh_sL9aPPovO0-gjEXK5ZU_8LJ5mw__VkG-YnGteA&oe=6774BE08	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653468	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 8:13 PM	1735316850	1749863597		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653428	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 8:23 PM	1735316844	1749864227		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653357	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 8:27 PM	1735316835	1749864441		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		New world publications		3779	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653607	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 8:30 PM	1735316865	1749864631		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vo8-8TXDedgQ7kNvgGrnacM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAQhjg3TZlSZkYV5vA1XMq8Ewg2OwIiFEIxg5OEa_iBrg&oe=6774A034	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1500	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653269	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/1/25, 2:15 AM	1735316825	1746083707		2141																										norvure.com	Shop now			IMAGE	2 in 1 Physical and Chemical Sunscreen Combo SPF50+	40% Off Until Midnight	https://norvure.com/products/peptide-9-2-in-1-physical-and-chemical-sunscreen-combo-spf50-2-pack			1.0499263250923E+14	HeartlyLove	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448165809_817818196971033_8273399906170243151_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ylj5XEoUJAYQ7kNvgEXgGW0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AB7P-oBkJGsYjvWU8uPYF4F&oh=00_AYAz32aoM9QgFNxd5JJovHznGJ3RI_Qv9thNv6EQKdNFBw&oe=67749F27	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🌞 Ready for superior sun protection on the go? 🛡️ Meet Peptide 9 Bio Sun Stick – SPF 50+ and 9 Peptide Complex for youthful skin. 💪 Combines physical and chemical sunscreens for unbeatable UV defense. 🏊 Water-resistant, sweat-resistant, and perfect for outdoor adventures. 😌 Non-greasy, non-sticky – enjoy smooth, comfortable skin without the white cast. 👇Click Below To Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight!		HeartlyLove		747	https://www.facebook.com/100089641703840/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2653354	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/13/25, 11:08 PM	1735316834	1749874124		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653485	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 8:02 AM	1735316851	1749733359		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653491	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/9/25, 10:03 AM	1735316851	1749481435		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653459	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 5:51 AM	1735316849	1749639080		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYA6buUeOfHPCQ6W2HfritNX6Ax7gIFdVt28ZpA0pYGTmw&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653462	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 5:14 PM	1735316849	1749680085		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653575	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/14/25, 2:01 AM	1735316859	1749884503		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bfmBZkC3sDYQ7kNvgEHiS6x&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC53dsnQgqBR-ntKHtC3O_nzmfUyAPM5nbycrkj3Jp8Uw&oe=6774906B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653586	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/14/25, 2:01 AM	1735316861	1749884511		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653570	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/14/25, 4:57 AM	1735316859	1749895062		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bXiMAeg8mKAQ7kNvgHoVV9G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAn6Vh_sL9aPPovO0-gjEXK5ZU_8LJ5mw__VkG-YnGteA&oe=6774BE08	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653332	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/1/25, 7:11 AM	1735316833	1746101493		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYD2xUaofTE2tV6IRDDT8YqEQCu52WHNW36OGkdqsAOJMw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653602	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/14/25, 4:22 AM	1735316864	1749892935		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653351	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/14/25, 3:31 AM	1735316834	1749889873		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653633	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/14/25, 3:38 AM	1735316868	1749890289		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5r7S1j6i3twQ7kNvgEF0j0v&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYBu9lPxl7egUioDIbWOAcsxdp_-750TQ1cz1Sj11Y5e5w&oe=67749E2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653356	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 11:05 PM	1735316835	1749096317		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653507	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/4/25, 11:05 PM	1735316852	1749096318		2141																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468550314_583797884065189_3362670537608425079_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=h7PFsQuCsQ0Q7kNvgF5i_QX&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYABHLFEED1SbtnsjMsxjOrqfz3zUKMnfi-QjLt9S6IXxQ&oe=6774C181	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		127	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653492	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/1/25, 9:11 AM	1735316851	1746108689		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653622	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/15/25, 1:24 AM	1735316867	1747290266		2141																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466781571_583949707501469_940276474866931517_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=SKktv5MuuHYQ7kNvgF04Yu2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYDUlElMQR87xdISkAdOd84p5WKKsEL8kd0wkQW-MbCPtA&oe=6774A367	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		夫は私と離婚し、初恋相手と結婚したがっていた。 あの日、彼女と私は同時に水に落ちた。夫は彼女を助け、私を水の中に残した。結局、彼らの子供は助かり、私の子供は亡くなった。 それでも、私は離婚を望まなかった。 しかし、胃癌の診断報告を受けた時、考えが変わった。 残り数ヶ月しか生きられないとわかった今、父を困らせたくない。 2年前に破産して以来、父は昏睡状態で病院に入院していた。 佐藤峻介が愛人と一緒に子供の健康診断のため、病院に行っていた時、私は彼に電話をかけた。 「峻介、離婚しましょう」私は冷静に言った。 「高橋優子、また何を企んでいるんだ？」彼は笑った。 私は目を閉じた。「家で待ってるわ」 家は冷たく空っぽで、ただ、静かだった。 峻介は私より先に到着していた。 私は病院から雨の中を走って家に向かっていた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介は冷たく尋ねた。 「いつから私のことに興味を持つようになったの？」私は無表情で答えた。 「お前に何か問題あったら、書類にサインできなくなるからな」峻介は嘲るように言った。 私は書類をダイニングテーブルに置いた。峻介は「離婚」という言葉をじっと見つめていた。 「安心して、もうサイン済みよ」 私には一つだけ要求があった。それは一千万の慰謝料だった。 「お前が急に離婚を承諾した理由がわかったよ。結局、金のためか」彼は嘲笑した。 以前の私なら弁解しただろうが、今はただ疲れ切っていた。 「本来なら、あなたの資産の半分を取る権利があるのよ、佐藤さん。でも一千万だけにしたの。あなたを配慮しているのよ」 峻介は一歩前に出て、影を私の身に落とした。 彼は細い指で私の顎を掴み、冷たく低い声で言った。「何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、気に入らないなら、元夫とでも呼びましょうか。サインしたら出て行って」 「ここは俺の家だ」彼は言った。 「確かに、私はその権利を持っていないわ。心配しないで、佐藤さん。離婚証明を受け取ったら出て行くわ」 そう言いながら、私は彼の手を払いのけ、彼の目を真っ直ぐ見つめた。 「佐藤さん、明日朝9時に市役所で書類を持ってきて。私たち、きっちり終わらせましょう」		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		127	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653573	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/1/25, 9:24 PM	1735316859	1746152672		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bfmBZkC3sDYQ7kNvgEHiS6x&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC53dsnQgqBR-ntKHtC3O_nzmfUyAPM5nbycrkj3Jp8Uw&oe=6774906B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653362	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/1/25, 9:37 AM	1735316836	1746110279		2141																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470241840_932234578693151_7015915272580763584_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wLyxyA_WYFIQ7kNvgHvNXca&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDJGkE8tX_TvKz0Zeks-3PrYVasoxUXWOpr6DZvEsEPBA&oe=6774A2FE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		127	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653363	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 4:43 AM	1735316838	1749635000		2141																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470503447_3730807770515932_7034784579888290156_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Rt5VXGT1ZpQQ7kNvgGvz1qy&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCVI2JXwzD7SXINTo6QkyX-CbATCetZGbcQ-RRXvMN7Gw&oe=6774C05A	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		127	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653301	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/1/25, 9:38 AM	1735316828	1746110291		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653352	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/11/25, 1:44 AM	1735316834	1749624297		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653384	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/12/25, 11:56 AM	1735316839	1749747387		2141																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469711969_384229181383992_1024207899625528278_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qEAFRZkXuC4Q7kNvgEK6BAe&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYD8BIMwzWOWCARFjdMa2x0BfEyDEIk9sfwgJ1VsPFhzNA&oe=6774B20A	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった。		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		127	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653582	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/1/25, 12:07 PM	1735316860	1746119260		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468305309_578542508038743_2063057565283715572_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MbIWYUduaG4Q7kNvgHx-LTm&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAp9Rji-nEjv0syCEyE9MNTcHmPateUPtn7rMsI486DLg&oe=6774A449	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2653493	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/1/25, 12:19 PM	1735316851	1746119948		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=On6_glyA2zEQ7kNvgHF4Nke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBGKzFDxYxUsJapTHJdkFUH7ENmsaOF3dLDafPnVmXADg&oe=6774A211	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653613	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/14/25, 8:04 PM	1735316865	1749949441		2141																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lSWN8bIs1PwQ7kNvgEI0lan&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCvSeh9XF59NPtoo2t9RTsIsyuARVXi77TUwcoWPzQT-g&oe=67749A6C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653585	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/8/25, 5:46 AM	1735316861	1749379617		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bpzt3spmQFUQ7kNvgEY_Q7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCahgFCjZrdx_HUu8wvztoDfvzvrwK0ghAISmX721jNWQ&oe=6774ACC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653265	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	5/2/25, 7:31 PM	1735316824	1746232284		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16865&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471436633_1111178080715589_6348095694429870959_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=W5-L-xjBA3MQ7kNvgFBIJxz&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AB7P-oBkJGsYjvWU8uPYF4F&oh=00_AYC0MBud34KzpKrtxdSY3FBJMMYpBSANLuf0lJFpUTpvdA&oe=6774A5D3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband Killian arrived late after my grandmother's funeral because he needed to be there for his first love. He looked like he ran in his wolf form. His hair is a mess, and his tie is not even tied properly. He was breathing so fast that he couldn’t even speak. My face turned blank as I locked gazes with him. “Astrid, I couldn’t leave early because I had something I needed to take care of.” My fists balled up at my sides as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Was there anything else more important than to be on your mate’s side at the time that she needed you the most?” I shot back at him. His eyes met mine and for a fleeting moment, a shadow of remorse flickered across his gaze “If only you hadn’t stopped me that night, I would have still met my grandma while she was still alive.” Killian’s grip on the bouquet tightened when he heard my words. “I had no idea I—“ “I kept telling you that my grandmother needed me!” I yelled, interrupting him from his words. “All you cared about is Giselle who is pre9nant with your child.” I blurted out finally releasing all the emotions that I have buried down long enough. Killian could not say a word. My heart which has always been heavy, felt lighter than it was after I finally told him the things that I’ve been wanting to tell him. I glanced at him in surprise when he suddenly crouched down and placed the bouquet of flowers that he brought on the ground where my grandmother had just been buried. “I only came here to pay my respects to your grandmother. I’m sorry if I was late, that was out of my control,” Killian replied like he didn’t just hear the rest of the words that I said. My breath turned shallow and my heart burned more in anger at his heartlessness. Unable to control myself anymore, I picked up the flowers and thrashed them on Killian until the flowers were all shredded into pieces. “You are here to pay respect?!” I screamed at him. I threw what was left of the flowers to the ground. “I’m tired of this. If you can’t give me respect, I should at least give myself some respect,” I spoke in a weak voice as I collected myself together. “Let’s just stop this joke and get a divorce,” I spoke firmly, looking at Killian directly in his eyes.		Galaxy in the Story		1720	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653383	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/2/25, 7:28 PM	1735316839	1748910492		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468395294_1258665828775905_6985369980348509407_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wkpFDQ1zzTcQ7kNvgHDZMX-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYCSNFdWSoIjO_wVhWUFOKLVkU4qDz6zsdJGXLBuFo2b1w&oe=67749DB1	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		New world publications		3779	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653414	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/2/25, 7:28 PM	1735316842	1748910497		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653574	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/2/25, 7:28 PM	1735316859	1748910503		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bfmBZkC3sDYQ7kNvgEHiS6x&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYC53dsnQgqBR-ntKHtC3O_nzmfUyAPM5nbycrkj3Jp8Uw&oe=6774906B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653505	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/2/25, 7:30 PM	1735316852	1748910618		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469017330_1735206037275029_6955124862834419130_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0FooEge0YXcQ7kNvgGwCjN1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBQIHvWFd68uiPC80sAYjBlH4Ipg6U-Rc9MZCK20avmEg&oe=67749819	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2653379	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/2/25, 7:33 PM	1735316839	1748910813		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653280	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/2/25, 7:33 PM	1735316825	1748910826		2141																										norvure.com	Shop now			IMAGE	SolarGuard™ 4 in 1 Bug Zapper - 40% Off Until Midnight	40% Off Until Midnight	https://norvure.com/products/solarguard%E2%84%A2-bug-zapper-your-ultimate-shield-against-bugs			1.0499263250923E+14	HeartlyLove	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448044086_848834753937291_401898360532307827_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zSLy25uv5mgQ7kNvgFlmv4d&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AB7P-oBkJGsYjvWU8uPYF4F&oh=00_AYC-nSs-7HkJc80cFI7RuMCKzdg61MkzYu7SorDrt-m6yA&oe=6774B290	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🦟 Transform your outdoor experience with the Norvure SolarGuard™ Bug Zapper. 🔋 Enjoy advanced solar and USB charging with a robust 4000mAh battery for long-lasting protection. 💡 Eliminate mosquitoes, flies, and gnats instantly with a 360° UV light and 4200V enhanced voltage. 🌟 Multi-functional design serves as a bug zapper, lighting lamp, and dynamic atmosphere light. ⚡️ Smart control technology with dusk-to-dawn sensor for hassle-free operation. 👇 Click Below To Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight!		HeartlyLove		747	https://www.facebook.com/100089641703840/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2653390	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/2/25, 7:41 PM	1735316840	1748911267		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xa2crH4rel0Q7kNvgGLlw5u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBTJX6W0SpML7pQliXHTR939zbUTpGs38lNN9D6L7g5ZA&oe=67749FAE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653417	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/2/25, 7:41 PM	1735316842	1748911279		2141																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOmoXDTwx2sQ7kNvgE51wxP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqGrfk5qi-brf2Bzg-ZL2Ii&oh=00_AYBcQIrakt7fqdMmjY88-yUIN5SaJgDAdOVE5iYrf6RgVw&oe=67749E87	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		886	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653511	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/2/25, 7:42 PM	1735316853	1748911325		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465737836_457793077328912_8861045446566645248_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=QVYeTXGNRf0Q7kNvgGVzAHM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYCfdwjGl5xy-tt6uTn4-V-sQDzFmfUZawifbo-D4s_2SQ&oe=6774964C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... “Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...		New world publications		3779	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2653367	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/2/25, 7:44 PM	1735316838	1748911463		2141																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dNlNZRJ9HMQQ7kNvgFm1i__&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYDi-ZKCLQLZr6HFwl6QeiRRvukXSwegdfGKZA4i0yEwPg&oe=6774B04C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2653323	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/15/25, 5:36 AM	1735316833	1749983796		2141																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wk2Wt2VuMMwQ7kNvgE6ZOhq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoB793702z_fSbKNms0dM8U&oh=00_AYCKGU0irZ2JPTvRBdzmYi-GmlgocVmr5Bockh4g6vhrdg&oe=6774A19C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2653568	1	active	12/27/24, 10:27 AM	6/15/25, 5:55 AM	1735316859	1749984909		2141																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bXiMAeg8mKAQ7kNvgHoVV9G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AjoSvrtxBziPqT0M08jNk7B&oh=00_AYAn6Vh_sL9aPPovO0-gjEXK5ZU_8LJ5mw__VkG-YnGteA&oe=6774BE08	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		330	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete